“Permit that these servants withdraw, and order them to close the doors,” said the book-keeper, almost commandingly. Ebenstreit, overruled by the solemn earnestness, obeyed against his will. “Would you like me to leave also, sir?” said Marie, with a calm, haughty manner. “You have only to ask it and the baron will, undoubtedly, accord your request.” “On the contrary, I beg you to remain,” quietly replied Splittgerber, “for what I have to say concerns you and your husband equally.” “Now, then, I beg you to say it quickly,” cried Ebenstreit, impatiently; “I repeat, that we are very busy with preparing for to-day’s festival.” “You will not give any fete to-day,” said Splittgerber, solemnly. Ebenstreit, cringing and frightened, gazed at the old man who looked sadly at him. The baroness laughed aloud, sneeringly. “My dear sir, your tone and manner remind me of the wicked spirit at the horrible moment in the story when he comes to demand the bartered soul, and the enchanted castle falls a wreck!” “Your comparison is an apt one, baroness,” sighed the old man.--“I came to you, baron, because I loved your father. I have served your house thirty years, and amassed the little I had to commence business with in your service. Moreover, when you so suddenly dismissed me, you not only gave me my salary as a pension, but you funded the annuity with a considerable sum, which makes me, through your house, independent in means.” “You may thank my wife for that. She demanded, when I dismissed you, that I should compensate you with the liberality of a true nobleman.” “Oh, would that you had not done it, baroness!” cried Splittgerber--“would that you had permitted the old faithful pioneer in the business to remain by your husband! He might have warded off this misfortune and saved you by his experience and advice.” “For this very reason I demanded your removal. You permitted yourself to proffer advice which I felt did not become you,” replied Marie, with a strange smile of triumph. “And, I repeat, would that you had not done it!” sighed the old man. “I came to warn you, to conjure you, to save yourselves--to flee while there is yet time.” “Oh, mercy! what has happened?” cried Ebenstreit, terrified. “The banking-house of Ebenstreit, founded under the name of Ludwig, associated with Ehlert of Amsterdam, four months since, to buy and load ships for the Calcutta market. Herr Ebenstreit gathered together the last wrecks of his fortune remaining from his ruinous speculations, to win enormously in this investment. Besides, he indorsed the notes of the Amsterdam house for the sum of eighty thousand dollars, which has been drawn, so that their notes are protested there. Herr Ebenstreit will have to pay this sum!” “What else?” asked Ebenstreit, almost breathless.